


Intersections

by prairiecrow



Series: Alignment (The Mob AU) [4]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mob, Assassins & Hitmen, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Human Jarvis (Iron Man movies), M/M, Nightmares, Protectiveness, Sub Jarvis, Super Soldier Serum, Tony Stark Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-13
Updated: 2015-12-13
Packaged: 2018-05-06 12:57:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5417951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prairiecrow/pseuds/prairiecrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony has a nightmare -- but on this winter night, as on all nights, he need not face it alone... not while wrapped in the warmth and the scent of his more-than-human lovers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Intersections

**Author's Note:**

> Rupert Friend is Jarvis. That is all.
> 
> http://www.magweb.com/picts/nm1670029.jpg

"N…n-no! No, nuhhh—"

Tony's whimpers, trailing off into a longer and marginally louder moan, instantly roused Steve from a deep and dreamless sleep. He rolled onto his left side as his serum-enhanced senses took swift account of their immediate environment: Tony's wide luxurious bed, the room cool and dark, with thick silent snowflakes drifting serenely past the floor-to-ceiling windows, turning the nighttime tapestry of New York City into a vague glow many stories below.

And Jarvis, of course — when it came to Tony Stark, Jarvis was never far away in these long still hours of the night.

"Sir." Tony was bracketed between their naked bodies in the centre of that soft warm bed with its Egyptian cotton sheet draped over his hips, flat on his back with vaguely tossing head and a dreaming scowl on his bearded face. Jarvis, smoothly clean-shaven even at this late hour, shifted closer from Tony's left side (not quite near enough to bring their bodies into direct contact, no, Tony usually preferred some physical distance between himself and his bedmates) and stroked Tony's tense belly with slow fingertips. His voice was low, an even murmur near Tony's left ear: "Sir, please — all is well. You are currently located at Stark Tower in New York City. The date is Thursday, December 20th, 2012, the time is 3:34 AM, and the weather conditions are —"

Tony flailed an irritable panicked left hand in Jarvis's general direction. Jarvis caught it effortlessly and held it fast, intertwining their fingers while continuing his soft litany: "— overcast, with heavy snow predicted through the early afternoon. We're going to have a white Christmas after all. Won't that be lovely?"

"Hrngh," Tony grunted. He tugged against Jarvis's grip, but Jarvis held firm, and after a few seconds he clutched back as if clinging to a lifeline. His eyelids flickered, then cracked open, staring toward the ceiling without truly seeing it — this was the eleventh time Steve had been present during one of the industrialist's nightmares, and by now he knew that Tony wasn't truly awake, only barely surfacing from whatever terror he was drowning in. "Juh… Jay…?"

"I'm here," Jarvis assured him. His slate-grey eyes, which had been focussed on Tony's expression, now shifted past him and upward to meet Steve's concerned gaze…

… and Steve recognized a prompt when he saw it. "I'm here too," he said softly, reaching carefully down to find Tony's right hand and gently take hold of it. "You're safe, Tony — we're both here, and we'd never let anything happen to you."

Tony scowled more deeply, but his voice was still heavily blurred: "Safe…?"

"Yes," Jarvis affirmed. He shifted nearer, close enough that the slender length of his pale nude body pressed against Tony's swarthier bare skin, and pressed three kisses to his face: temple, cheek, the furrow at the left corner of his ruddy mouth. "Perfectly safe." He looked to Steve again, and Steve too moved toward the bed's centre to bookend Tony in warm flesh.

"Safe…" This time there was no questioning inflection. Tony's flickering eyelids drifted fully closed as he turned his blind face toward Steve, and Steve kissed his lips softly, unhurried, willing the undemanding warmth of it to penetrate Tony's nightmare. And it must have worked, because he felt the tension infusing Tony's compact muscles start to dissipate, fading rapidly as Jarvis kissed his left shoulder and whispered into his ear:

"Now, and forever. You have my word."

Tony sighed, an exhalation full of relief and release. He turned his whole body in Steve's direction, snuggling his face into the angle of Steve's throat — but he never let go of Jarvis's hand, and less than ten seconds later he was breathing deeply and easily, securely wrapped in the warmth and the scent of his two not-entirely-human lovers.

Yes — Steve knew. He'd done some digging into the Academie de la Mort Beatifique long before meeting Stewart Jarvis, pursuing some suspicions of his own, and he was well aware that he wasn't the only human being in the world who was currently enhanced by Erskine's serum. How the Academie had come by its initial samples was still a mystery, but having seen Jarvis in action — the superhuman speed and strength and endurance, the spectacular leaps and the ability to gracefully survive falls from a great height, the rapid and complete healing of wounds which should have been fatal (as well as the marks of erotic restraint), even the subtle complexities of his scent— Steve now had absolutely no doubts. He didn't blame Jarvis, who had been subjected to the serum from infancy and had been given no choice in the matter.

But the current heads of the Academie — _them_ he blamed for every crime their agents committed, and he was determined that one day there would be a reckoning.

And when that day of bloody war came, he also knew that Jarvis would be right there, fighting at his side: for the sake of personal revenge, and more importantly, for the sake of the mortal man they both loved.

Jarvis settled back down with his cheek resting on Tony's shoulder, still holding Tony's hand, but his strange pellucid eyes did not close.

Steve, for his part, closed his eyes and pressed his lips to Tony's tousled hair, already sinking back into the warm haven of sleep. One of Jarvis's primary functions was, after all, to keep watch — and in this, too, Steve had every possible confidence.

THE END


End file.
